Written by Rita Fiero
I had a car accident in 1982, and I never walked again without the use of canes, crutches, and, finally, a walker.
Song of Invocation “Spirit of the Living God” 283 TNCH
ROMANS 8:37-39; PSALM 46:10
I AM! I AM! I AM MORE than a conqueror and what a blessing it is! My life seems to have been one test after another and not the least bit boring. The knowledge that I have experienced so much adversity and kept my faith is the real blessing. I know that whatever life sends me; I can, with the ever-present help of God, work through it and come out the other side as a wiser person! I should not be surprised by what God can do in our lives, but I am. It is not God’s power I have doubted but my own ability to be quiet long enough to know God, the Word of God, and the Will of God for my life (Psalm 46:10).
I have certainly not always felt like a conqueror and expect that times in the future may be just as frightening as in the past. But as a conqueror, I have past triumphs on which to build. I am convinced that neither the death of our gifted, twenty-six-year-old son, nor the challenge of life with pain and limitation, nor insensitive words of believers, nor hurtful attitudinal exclusion, nor the highs of personal success, nor the depth of suicidal depression, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate me from the love of God in Christ Jesus who suffered much more in his life than I in mine.
Despite finding a path for my own journey, I do not expect everyone to understand, nor agree, that victory over difficult situations is possible. It is possible but it is very hard work and it takes, as long as it takes. “Well-meaning” words of comfort after my accident and at the time of our son’s death often only silenced my words of lamentation. I felt my grief was not validated, and it gave the consolation to those who were uncomfortable with anything less than a stiff upper lip and smile from me. Swallowing my grief only prolonged the dark days. I had to get through the “going through” at my own speed. I had to work through my loss and grief as best I could and in my own way. No one should ever allow the expectations of others, even those who are closest and love us most, to pressure us to get on with life if we are not ready. But, we must also take the responsibility to choose to move ahead. To not choose is a choice! I am convinced the biblical directive to “Choose Life” translates into conquering the urge to curl up under a blanket forevermore because it is the safest place to hide. This decision, between life and isolation, is what makes for such hard work. A little solitude is a gift; too much solitude can be a burden.
I had a car accident in 1982, and I never walked again without the use of canes, crutches, and, finally, a walker. In 1988, I started using a wheelchair. Walking is a highly overrated ability but preferable. Humor is highly underrated but a necessity. Humor and ingenuity have served me well over the years. I raised two teenagers while being very limited and devised creative ways to outsmart them. I had a terrible time getting them to clean up their rooms, so after fair warning, I dumped their loosely lying-around clothing out the second floor window of their rooms. The only thing I regret is not getting a picture of their faces as they saw the only house on the cul-de-sac, viewable from the main thoroughfare, in full dress. I don’t think they were too psychologically damaged, and I am convinced that God also has a sense of humor. God, the parent, also laughed. I will never be able to do some of the things I did before the accident, but I can do things differently. There are discoveries and surprises along the journey of disability, and I would not trade them in for anything. That is not true of our son Michael’s death. I would give anything, including my life, to have him back. But I feel grieving his death may well have been a catalyst to my healing. I had to face up to all of my losses, the frustrations of my disability, daily life with chronic pain, and sadness over the progressive illness of my husband. I have learned that the only acceptance of such losses is the acceptance that life will never be the same, and this must be sufficient until we come face-to-face with the author of all life. Only God knows our lives from the end to the beginning. Only God knows why.
In July 2001, the most extraordinary experience of my life happened when I was invited to be a scripture reader at General Synod worship. I felt honored and agreed to do it. The reading came in the mail and I briefly looked it over wondering if I had finally extended myself a bit too much. I set it aside until the day before my scheduled presentation, when I began to practice reading it aloud. I did read it, over and over again. I had to stop. I had visions of my third grade teacher standing over me with a ruler telling me to read it correctly, “like you really believe what you’re saying:” But I could feel nothing. I had become numb in order to survive what no parent should survive, let alone the other complications of my life. I knew I had endured, but I was now faced with the choice to conquer or to hide. Rising to the challenge would not make things “right” again, and I finally knew that in my heart, however, I was being forced to make this choice because I would never be able to sit before thousands and give praise to God and not feel that exquisite praise. I started to read and reflect on the words I was saying: “O Lord, our God, how majestic is your name in all the earth….” Alone in that hotel room, I found the perspective on life I had longed for and the words of praise flowed from me, not the paper before me. The next night, I read as if God and I were the only ones in the auditorium. My spirit was healed and I was granted peace beyond my understanding.
I now know it is possible to give praise to God in all circumstances. I have become sincerely thankful for the short time we did have with Michael instead of being angry that our time was so short. I am happy I have gotten to know our beautiful daughter, Rebecca, as an adult and to have her friendship. I am truly blessed to love the man I married thirty-three years ago-even more than when we first wed. We will cherish the rest of our lives together because we know how truly precious that life is.
God is good! All the time! Yes, God is good and worthy to be praised!
Reflection Questions
l. Have you been hurrying so fast that you need to wait for your soul to catch up to
your body? Find a quiet place, a church, the woods, or a room in your house where
you can shut out the noise of the world. Spend some time in silence listening for
God’s voice. What do you hear?
2. Write about the strengths you have gained from the most traumatic event in your life. First, step back from your trauma. Watch a good movie or chat with a friend. Next, for three days in a row, write for ten minutes about what you have learned from the negative experience. Finally, decide what you want for a victorious outcome and try to make the dream a reality. Transform your suffering into a sacrament. Be more than a conqueror.
Suggested Hymns
“When Peace, Like a River” (“It Is Well with My Soul”) 438 TNCH
“God’s Eye Is on the Sparrow” 475 TNCH
“There Is a Balm in Gilead” 553 TNCH
Women’s Mosaic Series 2002
UCC Women’s Resource
Margaret (Peg) Slater, Editor
